Chapter 130 Regret
Chapter 130 Regret
[Cedric]
As the final words left her lips, she let me go. I stepped toward her, wanting to bridge the gap between us, but froze when I saw the determination in her expression.
"It's done," she said simply. "The words have been spoken. The bond is rejected."
I felt a dull ache in my chest where the mate mark had been warm just hours ago. Not a supernatural force preventing me from approaching her, but the weight of her choice settling between us.
"Please," I begged, tears welling in my eyes as the reality of what she'd done hit me. "You have to believe me about last night. I didn't order that dancer. It was Jason from accounting—they surprised me. I had no idea they were planning that for my birthday."
Her expression softened slightly. "I know."
"You... know?" I blinked, wiping at my eyes.
"I could smell your genuine surprise when she appeared," Lana admitted quietly. "Your heartbeat, your scent—they don't lie to someone like me."
"Then why?" My voice cracked with desperation. "Why reject the bond if you know I didn't betray you?"
She turned away, arms wrapped protectively around herself. "Because when I saw you with her, even for those few seconds before I stormed out... I felt something I haven't experienced in centuries. Jealousy. Raw, consuming jealousy."
"That's normal for mates—"
"Not for me," she cut in sharply. "I don't like who I am when I'm around you. I've spent centuries carefully controlling every emotion, every reaction. And in just days, you've made me feel things I swore I'd never feel again."
"We can work through this together," I pleaded, reaching for her hand.
She stepped back, avoiding my touch. "I can't be this person. I won't be controlled by emotions, by jealousy, by this... bond. I refuse to be that vulnerable again."
Before I could respond, she stepped forward suddenly and placed her cool palms on either side of my face. Her eyes began to glow with ancient power.
"What are you doing?" I asked, suddenly afraid.
"Making this easier for both of us," she murmured. "Goodbye, Cedric."
I felt a strange sensation, like fog rolling through my mind, obscuring memories, feelings, connections...
"No, Lana, don't—"
But the darkness was already closing in, memories of her slipping away like water through my fingers.
[Lana]
I paced the length of my penthouse, stopping occasionally to glance at the chaos unfolding in the city below. Three days had passed since I'd erased Cedric's memories of me, since I'd cut our bond, and I'd never felt more hollow.
Sleep eluded me, mocking my centuries-old power. I who could bend darkness to my will, who had witnessed empires rise and fall, was undone by the absence of a firefighter I'd known for mere days.
"This is pathetic," I muttered, pressing my forehead against the cool glass of the window.
I'd tried to bury my feelings beneath cold indifference, as I'd done countless times before. It hadn't worked. The emptiness where our bond had been felt like an open wound that refused to heal.
For the past three days, I'd followed him—a shadow he couldn't see. I watched him order coffee at the little shop near his station, noticed how he stared absently into space between sips. I observed him at work, efficient but distant, his colleagues asking if he was feeling alright. I even perched on the fire escape outside his apartment, watching him sleep fitfully through his bedroom window.
Not once did his eyes flicker with recognition when they passed over me. The spell had worked perfectly. To Cedric, I was a stranger—if he noticed me at all.
Yesterday, I'd nearly revealed myself when he'd helped an elderly woman cross the street, that same gentle smile on his face that had first weakened my resolve. The mate mark on his chest had faded to a pale scar, while mine still burned with awareness.
I'd done this. I'd taken his choice away, erased myself from his memory, severed our connection.
And for what? Freedom? I felt more trapped than ever.
The phone weighed heavy in my hand as I scrolled to my mother's number. I hadn't called her in decades. Our relationship had been strained since I'd embraced the darkness that had always lived inside me. But if anyone knew how to restore a bond that had been cut, it would be her.
At 3:17 AM, I finally pressed "call."
"Lana?" My mother's voice, surprised but instantly alert. "Is everything alright?"
"Hello, Mother." The formality in my tone couldn't hide the tremor beneath. "I need information."
"It's been twenty years, and that's how you begin?" I could hear the hurt beneath her irritation.
"I'm sorry," I said, the words unfamiliar on my tongue. "I... I need your help."
A pause. "What's happened?"
I took a deep breath. "I need to know how to restore a mate bond that's been... severed."
"You found your mate?" Sharp surprise, then suspicion. "And you've already cut the bond? Lana, what have you done?"
"I made a mistake." The admission cost me more than she could know. "I cut the bond and took his memories."
My mother's sharp intake of breath carried through the line. "Oh, Lana. That's not something done lightly. Why?"
"I was afraid." The truth spilled out before I could stop it. "He made me feel things I haven't felt in centuries. Vulnerable. Out of control."
"And now?"
"Now I can't stop thinking about him. Following him. The bond is gone but I still..." I couldn't finish.
"Listen carefully," my mother said, her voice taking on the teaching tone I remembered from childhood. "Restoring a broken bond is more complicated than severing it. You'll need physical contact—skin to skin. Eye contact is essential. And there are words, ancient words that must be spoken."
She recited the incantation, making me repeat it until I had it memorized perfectly.
"But Lana," she added, her voice grave, "this won't work unless he wants the connection too. You can't force this on him."
"He won't even remember me."
"Then remind him. Give him back what you took." A pause. "And Lana? Stop running from what you feel. It's the only way forward."
After we hung up, I stood motionless for several minutes. Then I changed into black clothing and slipped out into the night.